


missing you

by hikarinanao



Category: BTOB
Genre: Grim Reapers, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Yesung only appears for a bit, also readable without watching goblin! and spoiler free, goblin au, honestly he is only there Just Because lmao, human!changsub, reaper!sungjae, the ending won't be that tragic i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 02:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikarinanao/pseuds/hikarinanao
Summary: Lee Changsub meets the weirdest guy in his life: a guy who is crying in a fishing shop because, apparently, Changsub beat him to the artisan lure he wanted. This same guy also wears a fancy suit to the fishing shop.At the same time and place: a Grim Reaper meets the person who, unbeknownst to him, is intertwined with his history and fate, and gives him a wonderful first impression by crying from the feels.





	1. missing you

**Author's Note:**

> this one is inspired by the afterlife theory of the missing you mv: that the shots of them walking together means they are still 7 together even in afterlife. i first saw it in a youtube comment on the mv but couldn't find it again when i'm about to post this :( but anyway, if we're talking afterlife we're talking goblin amirite? a very exciting conversation with a friend about that gave birth to this fic. i'll try my best to depict a fresh look on a reaper-human relationship.
> 
> first time writing seriously for btob... honestly the btob boys's characters are kinda hard to completely grasp so sorry if ooc at times ;-; also i'm not a native english speaker and this chapter is unbeta'd, so sorry for mistakes! also slow updates... because school sucks... but i have the next two chapters ready so
> 
> find me on twitter: @btosuju

Today will be the day that he will remember for the rest of his life.

Or he thinks it is. The future is still a dark cavernous path, like how his life has been thus far. But this moment, this exact moment is a ray of light.

"So when will you explain why you're crying?"

Yeah. Why is he crying? Did a tragedy happen? He looks around. Nothing, just a normal fishing shop. He puts his head back to where it was and oh yeah, this ray of light right before him.

Standing before him.

The store attendant tilts his head against Ray of Light's. "It's probably the koi fish lure, sir. That is our last stock."

Ray of Light turns to him and why is he crying harder? God.

"You want this koi?"

He doesn't want it that much, but okay. It's probably best to play along. This feeling he has right now is just too overwhelming, simply too much. Even though he doesn't know what this feeling is, exactly—the feeling is indescribable. But it just won't stop. It barges down upon him like a waterfall, and he has never felt this alive before. That's saying much, because he's practically dead. Like literally. This is the only one time that has ever mattered, the only one so far in his undead life, and he doesn't want this moment to end. This moment, the moment that started when he laid his eyes on Him.

"Yes. Please give it to me."

Ray of Light turns back to the attendant. "You really don't have any stock left?"

"No sir, that one is artisan goods. We'll need to wait some good while before the next batch arrives."

He just doesn't stop crying—his heart is about to burst—so he talks even more. "Please let me buy it. I want it very badly."

The man shows flashes of frustration and confusion on his face—he is a very expressive person, it seems—then talks with the attendant some more. He takes the opportunity to observe this man's features. The guy is wearing a turtleneck and coat, the latest fashion trend. A fancy-looking watch decorates his wrist. His skin is a smooth milky white, and his head is slightly puffed in the cheeks. His gaze looks lazy, but steady and focused.

"Okay. Okay. I figured it out, so stop crying—are you checking me out?"

He pretends to look at the many vintage lures that line the walls of the fishing shop. "No. What is it?"

Ray of Light squints, but continues. "Okay. He said you're a regular here, so you must love fishing, right? To tell you the truth, I don't. I won't be here if this potential client didn't insist on fishing instead of the usual Very Businessmanlike Golf, and I'll probably only use this thing once. Gotta have fancy gear to appeal to the client, right?"

_Golf? Business? Appealing with fancy gear?_

Too much implicit understanding of human knowledge was in there that he can't even do anything but hug his hat tighter to his chest.

"Listen. I'm gonna use this just for the client meet in a few days. And if you still want it, then I'm willing to sell it to you after. How about that?"

He nods—he has never nodded this fast, because that means there will be another meeting with this Ray of Light in the future, there will be another time when his heart beats this fast, when his temporary body feels warm and alive.

"Okay. Give me your number."

He blinks.

"What?"

The man arches an eyebrow. "Your phone number. I will contact you once I'm ready to sell it."

_Oh. Right._

Thankfully he isn't as bad as the other Reapers—at the very least, he knows what a Mobile Phone is. He just never bothered to buy one, because he has never needed one and never really wanted one.

"I forgot my phone," he says as a lame excuse while already thinking back to the Mobile Phone ads he's seen and weighing which one to get on the way home.

"That's alright, just give me your number."

"It—it was a new number. I haven't memorized it yet."

Lame, but Ray of Light shrugs. "Fine," he takes out a pen and paper. He scribbles something, then hands it to him. "This is my number. Just send me a text later."

"Okay," he folds the note neatly and carefully pockets it. It's not something he can afford to lose.

"Care to tell me your name?"

_Oh. Right._

Humans have names.

What should he say? What should he say? His head starts to boil and he slips his hands in his pockets to hide the jitters.

"Yook—" he says out of panic, because that's the closest thing he has to a name. He was the sixth to arrive in his circle of Reaper friends, and the nickname just stuck.

"Yook?"

"Yook."

"Just... Yook?"

His lips form a thin line.

"Can't disclose your first name?" Ray of Light squints again, then shrugs. "Whatever. Then you can just call me Lee."

Lee offers his hand.

_Oh. Right._

Humans shake hands when they introduce eath other. How could he forget? How is he going to dodge this bullet? Does he just take it and just let himself see Lee's past life without his permission? That wouldn't be very gentlemanlike.

His palms dampen as he just stands there, ramrod straight. Without a complete thought, he starts speaking: "I will contact you later. I gotta run."

Only now does Lee look honestly lost and slightly offended. "Yah. Isn't that a little impolite?" he asks. The Reaper wishes all of this never happened, or that he could freeze time like a goblin and run out of the shop to never see Lee ever again.

That's what he does—the reaper actually runs, leaving traces of guilt and regret as he couldn't actually stop time and he can hear Lee shout behind him.

The reaper keeps running until he finds a small alley, then immediately turns. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them he is back at the comfort of his own apartment. He runs to his couch and lets himself plop down.

To calm his adrenaline down, he tries to notice things. The stains on the ceiling. The strange smell—probably from the milk he left sitting out this morning when he overslept and had to rush out. The unfamiliar aroma of wood from the newly bought coffee table by his side.

The adrenaline fades. He has now finally noticed another thing: the sharp pain in his chest.

It comes like a guerrilla war—hiding behind the flow of adrenaline to only ambush him all at once when he wasn't expecting it. He expected to feel filled to bursting, maybe moved to tears. Because meeting Lee gave him that kind of feeling. No, what he got was harsh knife jabs to his heart and he doesn't know why.

It's almost physically painful. He grips his shirt so hard he can feel his fingers go numb. He tries punching his chest area, maybe he could kill off one or two of the guerrilla soldiers inside him. Maybe the physical pain will numb his heart.

It's not working, of course—as if he expected it to anyway. The pain is much more violent than any physical pain he could inflict on himself right now. It is a steady burn that keeps getting hotter and hotter, an incision to the heart that slices a centimeter a second, a blade buried deep in his heart that keeps sinking in but doesn't seem to reach the hilt.

He cries and cries. The tears do not stop. He wails, because the pain is too strong and he is just too confused.

An image of Lee lingers in the back of his mind, yelling, screaming. Asking him to not leave. Asking him to stay. The thought chokes his breath, grasping and clawing. The images are vivid, almost uncanny, as he has never seen this image himself but he _feels_ like he must have.

_Who is Lee?_ He thinks, finally, some part of his brain finally functioning before it shuts off along with the rest of his worn out body.


	2. fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s just a fantasy._

In a certain fishing shop, Lee Changsub is still standing in shock.

Changsub has never seen someone quite like him—something quite like him. Wearing a suit to a fishing shop? Refusing to tell his first name and to shake hands? Crying because of a fish lure? For five minutes straight?

Truthfully, if he wasn't so good looking, Changsub would've immediately dismissed him as a freak. A hidden camera prankster, maybe.

"Sir?" The clerk's voice snaps him out of his train of thought. "Would you like me to pack that lure for you?"

Changsub gives his head a good shake then resumes his halted transaction.

"Does that guy really shop here a lot?"

"Yeah, he comes regularly to buy gear and stuff. Always pays in cash, never caught his name."

"Do you think he's a good fisher?" Changsub isn't even sure why he is asking this, what use is this answer to him. At this point, Changsub can only draw the conclusion as sheer curiosity.

"He buys good gear, so I think he is. He gets the fancy ones," the clerk explains as he takes Changsub's wons. "I've never seen him at any competition though, could be that he just had tons of extra money to pour into a hobby."

Changsub says a thank you and leaves the shop with his new lure and a thousand questions.

At home, he packs the lure along with all the other Fishing Things he bought prior. There must be no mistake. He has stupidly faked his fishing experience to appeal to the client, so if the client finds out he's lying he's so done for. He has to stick to his words or the client's trust will plummet down.

Thankfully Changsub has found time to go and try fishing a few times (at a fishing pond), so at least he shouldn't embarrass himself that bad.

* * *

 

The Reaper sits.

He taps his finger on his arm. He looks at the apple in front of him, willing it to disappear, but his abilities aren't working properly.

_Hurry up, hurry up, why is it taking so long? And why can't I make it disappear?_

"Impatient, are you? Please wait a little bit longer," the man in front of him says with a chuckle as if something is amusing, but nothing is amusing to the reaper right now.

After three lifetimes, the apple finally disappears, switching to some text. The man asks to put his finger on a circle. When he does, the text suddenly changes.

The Reaper is so fascinated by his magic he doesn't realize that the man is talking to him. He snaps back to the man as he hears him say "sir?"

"Yes?"

"I asked if you have got an Apple ID."

_Eyedee....?_

"I-I'm sorry?"

"Apple ID. If you don't have one already, you should make one to not miss out on a lot of features."

"O-Oh." He still isn't quite sure what an Eyedee is, but he knows that at this situation it is best to nod. "Okay."

The man hands the phone to him. "Here you go."

He looks down on the screen. It says it's asking for his... address? So he puts down his apartment's address. And passcode.

He hands it back to the man, who truthfully has been pretty annoyed for a good bit, and just fucking lost it when he saw the screen.

"Okay you know what? Are you trying to prank me? If you do show me the cam now, I'm starting to teeter on the edge here."

_Prank? Cam?_

"I don't know," he innocently says, which is the wrong answer, because the man's face grew darker.

The clerk opens his mouth to say something, but stops halfway. Rigid, statue-like, as if someone stopped his time. His eyes also hollow out to an empty, expressionless look, like someone took control of his mind.

Because someone totally did.

"O-Okay. Chill. Calm down. Close your mouth," the Reaper says, and the closes his mouth. "Just make it so I can use the phone."

The clerk says nothing, but his hands started its busy work. The Reaper feels some guilt gnaw at his stomach, because he just broke a rule, but hey. He had to do it to survive, there's no other way. He couldn't possibly run out of the shop like earlier and leave his purchase behind, or leave with the phone but with zero knowledge on how to channel its powers.

As the reaper keeps justifying his actions, he hears friction against the table and looks down to see the phone already pushed towards him.

The reaper looks at it.

He looks at it.

"Um," the Reaper says, knowing full well he already broke eye contact with the clerk thus also breaking his control. "Can you tell me... how to use..."

Gingerly, he sneaks a glance at the clerk's face—oh no, he's back to pissed mode.

"So? Where's the camera? Get the act over with, I don't have all day—"

Another eye contact with the clerk and maybe  ninety minutes later, the Reaper comes back home with a phone and a Totally Enough knowledge to use it. He unlocks the phone with his index finger, just like how the clerk taught him, and looks at his home screen.

His finger hovering over the screen, he goes over each app and repeats the explanation to near-perfect detail, feeling satisfied with himself each time he is able to recall it. He decides to try them all for himself maybe some other time.

He opens his contacts. The first contact he has in his address book is Mr Lee, whose number he gave to the clerk to register earlier. The first and the only one, so far.

_If I tap here, I can send him a message. And then..._

He types with one finger.

_Hello_

He tries looking for the period in the keyboard, doesn't find it, the sends it anyway.

The reply came quick.  _Who is this?_

How rude. How can he just forget him like that? They literally just met days ago.

_You forgot me already? Rude_

He presses send, feeling more and more confident with this message thing.

Speaking of who he is... he recalls an app that lets you look up things easily.  _Anything and everything,_  he remembers the clerk saying. _Just write it here, tap here, and it'll show up._

The reaper tests its credibility. He searches:

_저승사자_

The reaper nearly drops his latest purchase. The top picture result is a dashing man in a dapper full black attire, with a black top hat as the cherry on top. An exact depiction of his own attire on duty.

_Who is this careless grim reaper? Have we been discovered? He is a disgrace to his own identity as a cursed reaper!_

The reaper clicks, and clicks, and clicks, and he finds himself at a paid drama website.

He immediately pays for a subscription.

One sleepless night and... maybe three boxes of tissues and a newfound respect towards goblins later, he goes back to his quest of exploring this app. Pretty satisfied with the accurate depiction of grim reapers, he returns to his original intention of making an identity for himself.

He searches:

_Cool name with yook_

A page comes up that has a list of famous people with the Yook surname, and he taps it. 

He scrolls down the list to see any name he likes, and he doesn't notice the reply from Lee that he got before he paid for that monthly drama subscription.

* * *

 

Remember when Changsub said he isn't gonna embarrass himself that bad?

Wrong. Very wrong. Changsub is going to embarrass himself that bad, and maybe even worse. Changsub is going to Die.

How? How could he forget his line? How did he just leave it at home? How did it not get into his box? How? Changsub thinks back to last night, what did he do?

He remembers re-opening the tackle box to check his tools. He remembers reciting the use for each one. He remembers confirming to  himself that he has memorized all the steps to assemble his rod.

Then he remembers. He remembers the weird text he got last night, he remembers asking who that is and getting the extremely rude reply. He remembers thinking that it must be some fuckboy texting three random numbers at once, and somehow got reminded of this one time he tried out grindr.

With that disappointing memory freshly recalled, he may have... gone mischievous, played along and written back a suggestive text, kept laughing imagining what the other party's reaction would be, and also: wrapped up his mini fishing study session right after. Probably with the line still sitting outside the box.

Fuck.  _Fuck that fuckboy. Fuck grindr. Fuck phones. Fuck Alexander Graham Bell. Fuck_  everything.

There is zero time to go to the fishing shop and buy another roll of line. Changsub ran a bit late this morning, so there is simply no time for detours. He prays to whatever god is up there that there is a fishing shop near the pier.

He gets off his cab with his eyes closed when he arrives, hoping that god listened and a fishing shop is right in front of him when he opens his eyes. This is when Changsub regrets not being religious enough until this point, because he opens his eyes and finds nothing.

Nothing. This pier the client docked his boat at has absolutely fucking nothing. It's in the middle of nowhere and it has  _nothing_.

Changsub thinks drowning might be a good idea. Or maybe he could try the woods. Someone must've accidentally dropped a line in there, right?

He decides drowning is a better option, so he walks down the pier of mostly private-owned boats to find a nice place to hop down and enjoy the moment.

Suddenly he stops and takes some steps back. He gives the boat he just passed a once-over. The boat is occupied—Changsub could see a silhouette of someone at the helm, tinkering with something. He tiptoes to have a better look at the back, and there he sees: some rods, and a tackle box.

This is probably the first and last time Changsub will ever cry at a goddamn pier, because of a tackle box.

He carefully approaches the parked boat and gives the window soft knocks. "Excuse me," he makes his voice as desperate as possible, "may I have a minute?"

Changsub hears a muffled approval from inside, and Changsub is thrilled to bits. He feels like he could run down this pier three times. Maybe he should do that. The adrenaline tells him to.

The guy inside walks out, and what.

_What._

What is this coincidence? Why is he here? Why does the world make it so that this happens?

"Wh-whoa!" Yook shrieks. It looks like he is equally as excited to see him, from the slew of curses Changsub could see him mutter under his breath. Changsub watches as Yook almost takes a step back into the boat, probably thinks better of it, then reassumes his position on the deck.

"Mr. Yook," Changsub says, not really sure how he feels right now, and not really sure what else to say either. "Hello. We meet again."

"So this is where you fish, too?"

"Correction, this is where my client fishes. You have a nice boat." It indeed is; the boat looks to be the same type as the others, so it could probably be said that Yook as a similar amount of wealth to the other boats' owners. Which, considering one of these boats is owned by Changsub's client whose amount of wealth he has a rough picture of, is quite a lot.

Changsub gets a curious thought about how a guy of that level can be this awkward, but tries to dismisses it quickly with some bullshit reasons just to be polite as to not judge someone right in front of his face.

"Ah. Y-yeah. Thanks." Yook scratches his head, conveniently giving Changsub more food for his earlier gnawing thought. The following silence where Changsub's brain just won't stop judging Yook is just about to turn awkward but then Yook asks: "what is it about that minute you wanted?"

Changsub literally forgot about that until Yook mentioned it. "Oh—uh. I was wondering if, uh, do you bring extra gear?"

"Which one? You didn't forget your rod, did you?"

"Do I look that stupid? No. Line."

Yook's face twists into something that... slightly resembles disgust, perhaps.

Or maybe Changsub is just scrutinizing things too much. He grits his teeth, trying very hard to stop putting unnecessary thoughts into his head. He really needs a cool head for the client meet, he has to not get pissed.

But Yook shakes his head. "Ei, how could you forget to bring your line?"

"If you aren't aware yet, I don't exactly fish much, Mr. Yook the Angler." Changsub attempts his best to mask the annoyance in his voice. he wishes he can just get the line and leave—he doesn't exactly have that much time to spend being judged, even though he admits what he did is stupid.

"Yes, but you're going fishing. No one goes fishing without a line."

"Yah." Changsub is really about to lose it now, but then he remembers at this point he is the one who needs Yook, not the other way. So he tries a final desperate approach. "I'm meeting my client in five minutes, can you just give me a line please?"

Yook probably doesn't understand basic Korean, Changsub concludes, because he honestly looks so confused for whatever goddamn reason. Or maybe he is an actor Changsub hasn't heard about, which would explain a lot, including the boat, but would also mark him as an Annoying Asshole who probably has too much time on his hands for bothering strangers.

But this annoying Yook's lost expression is suddenly taken over with sass and he sighs, almost mockingly, bringing Changsub to the actual  _edge_. He also opens his mouth. "Hey, is this...  _client_  really that importa—"

_God, why is this guy being a brat? Why won't he stop? Why am I dealing with this?_

"Client! Meet! Five minutes! Please! God."

Yook large attitude finally shrinks, and his expression is superseded to a panic. "Okay. Okay. Wait."

He gets out of the cockpit and shuffles to the back of the boat. Changsub feels relieved that the message finally got across, but also guilty, somehow, even though he knows his backlash should be justified.

Yook comes back with a fresh, brand new roll of line. He hands it to him with averted eyes, and Changsub also takes it from him with averted eyes. He doesn't say anything. Changsub also doesn't say anything.

"Than—" "Hey—" they say at the same time, then shut their mouth at the same time. "You first," says Changsub.

Yook opens his mouth and a sound comes out, but he pulls the words back off his tongue. Like a declaration, he then says, with a pause after each character: "Yook Sung Jae."

His name. Why did he say his name? Changsub is already comfortable with the fact that he doesn't even know this very handsome guy's name. Yook was just a guy who cried for a lure and Changsub was the guy who bought that lure. Now he is Yook Sungjae, the guy who helped him at the pier, and that means it's personal, and that means Changsub owes him.

"Well," Changsub says with a heaved sigh, not ready for this one-sided advancement in their relationship. "Thank you, Mr. Yook Sungjae. I better get going. Also," because it's already a personal thing anyway so what the hell, "Lee Changsub."

Yook Sungjae takes a step into the cockpit, but he doesn't break eye contact with Changsub. Something is strange with the look on his face and Changsub wants to escape those dark brown eyes that shone a shade lighter under the morning sun, but this is where Sungjae is supposed to reply to him so the conversation ends well and Changsub can go in peace. Yet he is not saying anything. Just looking.

Strangely, nothing was awkward about the eye contact. Rather, it was like Sungjae was trying to convey a message.

Changsub is just about to start deciphering the code carved onto Sungjae's irises, but then Sungjae says: "Be careful, Mr. Lee Changsub," and vanishes into his cockpit.

* * *

 

The reaper watches Changsub's back as he leaves.

Empty. He feels like this must be some cruel twist of fate.

But no, not really, he thinks. This is his destiny. He was foolish to ever think he would ever get a happy ending. Grim reapers and happiness go together like oil and water.

He neatly ties the ribbon around his shirt collar and puts on his ever handy top hat. From his suit's inside pocket, he takes out a card.

 _Lee Changsub,_  it says on it, the soul he is going to send off today.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Fantasy, you spill onto me_   
>  _You’re my tragedy, my remaining everything_   
>  _In my stolen heart_   
>  _In my crooked fate_   
>  _I’m handing over to fantasy_
> 
> _VIXX - Fantasy_   
>  _(trans by ccl)_
> 
> \---
> 
> thank you for the warm response so far i'm ;-; very touched ;-;  
> when i feel like it i'll put appropriate lyrics and stuff in the summary like this because i'm cheesy hehehehe


	3. evanesce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s just a daydream;_
> 
>  
> 
> _love is like a daydream._

The client's boat is of a slightly fancier kind than Sungjae's, Changsub concludes after he gets on the deck. It is also pristine clean. A cool box and tackle box sits on the side.

Changsub expected assistants and bodyguards to join this fishing trip, but when he arrived at the boat he only finds the boat driver, who ushered him on and informed him that, quote unquote, "Yesung-ah will be here in a minute."

What he said bugs Changsub more than a little bit, because he has never heard of a "Yesung-ah" before. He knows the marketing guy. He knows the public relations guy. Hell, he even knows the CEO. But that CEO is not "Yesung-ah." Who ever Yesung-ah is, for the boat owner to adress him so casually, Changsub is actually quite afraid that the company has thought of him low enough that they sent some small fry for him. Then again, if so, the boat wouldn't be this nice.

Changsub was going to assemble his rod while he waits, but then he hears the clicks of shoes against the pier, and stands up to greet "Yesung-ah."

"Yesung-ah" comes into his view, and Changsub gets even more confused. The guy looks very young, maybe still in his twenties, clad in a very casual shirt and shorts combo and decorated with accessories. A Lot of accessories.

He takes off his sunglasses and ribbon-tied cap before approaching Changsub with a braceleted hand out. "Changsub-sshi," he greets. "Hello. Call me Yesung, please."

"Beaglesoft, Lee Changsub."

They exchange greetings and Yesung voices the thought in Changsub's head: "you must be wondering why I am here."

Changsub isn't quite sure how to answer, so he answers with the default answer everyone uses when they're in this situation: he laughs shyly.

"Let's just say I play an extremely important role in the company," answers Yesung to his own question. "Actually, the marketing manager is the guy who loves fishing while doing business. You were supposed to meet him today, but I decided to come here in his place."

Yesung is dressed this casually and looks so young, but he radiates an overwhelming air of something dark and intimidating. His half-lidded eyes project a piercing gaze that makes Changsub's heart pound. Whatever his position in the company is, he wasn't spouting lies—he really must be no joke, not some kid, and certainly not a no-name small fry.

"I actually do not fish," Yesung admits with a laugh, "so pardon me if I do not take on the reel today."

Changsub also laughs. Thinking it would be better to do it now than later, he also says his confession. "Truthfully, I also have never fished before, so there's that."

Yesung laughs again. "Honest. I like that. But since we're here anyway, let's go for a spin on this boat, yeah?"

The boat kicks into a start and smoothly, it slides out of its parking spot. Yesung comes out of the cockpit with a visor strapped securely to his head. His earrings chime as they sail further and further off the pier.

Since Yesung hasn't heard it from him before, Changsub offers to introduce his company along with the offer he proposed, to which Yesung gives him the OK. Beaglesoft started three years ago as a software developer, which then started to branch out to games and has been doing games exclusively since last year. They are finally doing Changsub's dream project of making a rhythm game, aligning with his hobby of music. Meanwhile, SJ Entertainment is the biggest entertainment agency in Korea, their artists producing hit after hit and always going on world tours. Just for the heck of it, they approached SJ Entertainment for permission to use their music library in the game, and surprisingly the company was apparently very excited for it and would love to hear more.

Yesung is still so intimidating even when accompanied by the strong hum of the boat engine and the splashes of it against the waves, but the constant nods he does as he listens erases Changsub's dismay. Changsub completes the explanation with the supposed agenda for today: "The next step is for me to introduce how SJ's music will be imple—"

A loud curse.

It comes out of the cockpit. Changsub is immediately raised to high alert, and he runs to the cockpit only to meet the helmsman halfway.

"Brothers," he says, gasping for breath. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. Maybe I forgot to close the filter. Shit," he buries his face in his hands. "How can I be this stupid? How did this—"

"Okay," Changsub cuts. "Let's think about that later. What's going to happen? What should we do now?"

"We're on our way to a capsize," he puts his hands back on the wheel. "Put on your jackets, boys. It's going to be a long day. I'll get us as close as we can to land before the inevitable happens."

Changsub sighs, thinking what past sin has he done to ever be this unlucky.

He goes out of the cockpit to find Yesung still perched calmly on his seat. Changsub locates the life vests, grabs three for all of them, and hands one to Yesung.

Yesung only tilts his head. "What happened?"

"Something about the filter, the helmsman said."

He nods. "I see," he says, still not taking the life vest.

Changsub is honestly trying his very bestest not to panic and lash out, so before his rage shows, he simply left Yesung's vest next to him. He starts putting his own vest on. A cold sensation suddenly hits his feet, and when he looks down, he sees water, rising steadily up to his ankle level.

He softly curses, still attempting to keep his manners even though he's really on the edge right now. Also: Yesung is still sitting ever so calmly with his vest next to him.

"Yesung-sshi, water is already seeping in. You should wear your vest."

Yesung doesn't seem to listen. His eyes seem transfixed to land, where there is... nothing. But his eyes seem focused, not zoning out.

The boat tilts, and Changsub panics, but then—

The next thing Changsub knows, he is back on land, right on the pier where Yook Sungjae gave him his extra roll of line. The boat is safely parked. A sharp pain punctures the side of his skull. Yesung is next to him, smiling.

 

* * *

 

Yesung stood up, grabbed a fistful of Changsub's hair and smashed him to the side of the boat, safely knocking him out.

That had happened as soon as the reaper set foot on the boat, which the reaper thought was a bit over the top, but he was grateful for it anyway. Seems like Yesung already knew that he was there to talk and any unneeded witness is best be gotten rid of.

"Yah," the reaper politely greeted. "Dokkaebi-sshi. Until when are you going to pile up my paperwork?"

Yesung, the asshole, only smiled. "Any idea how to make this boat not sink? I hate water."

"The name's already disappeared, you know." The reaper pulled out an aberrant blank card from his pocket. "You being here is enough. No need to stop the boat."

Yesung shrugged. "I hate water," he repeated, then walked to the cockpit. A few minutes later, he walked out with an ever bigger confidence in his steps than when he walked in. "Can you lend me a hand? The helmsman needs to think nothing ever happened to his precious boat."

"What if I don't want to?" the reaper countered because hey, it was against the rules to use his powers for personal gain.

"You want to, though," Yesung smirked. "Because this guy is involved."

He gestured to the nearly still body on the boat floor.

Another few minutes later, the helmsman was happily cruising the boat, thinking the trip has ended peacefully and they are land-bound. Yesung actually clapped and all with his limbs sprawled open as he sat there, because he is a dramatic bastard. "You done good," he said, and the reaper knew that that was the most grateful the goblin was ever going to be. He hadn't personally met with the goblin like this so frequently to know his character, but the number of times his name had appeared in his subordinates' paperwork is enough testimony that he's the mischievous kind. And from the air he gave off, he seems like he had already been stuck down here for quite a while. With long life experience comes a ton of pride.

"Alright," the reaper said while already sort of regretting he ever came on the boat to meet this troublesome individual. "Since I've done good, could you do me a favor back and help my paperwork by explaining the situation?"

Yesung gave him an undecipherable look. There was some pride and relief, but also pity in his eyes. The reaper knew also, from the way those eyes burnt into him, that the pity was not directed at Changsub. It was for him.

"Changsub here," he started, mulling over his words every few seconds, "is a bright kid. Very earnest, hardworking and filled with life and dreams. I saw a bit of his initial meeting with our marketing guy. There was no doubt in his eyes even though he was pitching for something seemingly impossible, only excitement for the moment and hope for the future. That's why I instructed the company to take up his offer. But then," Yesung shifted his smoldering gaze his way, "there's you."

The reaper swallowed down the sudden jitters he felt from the ominous of Yesung's voice. The goblin hold the things they appreciate and cherish extremely dear, because they know how fleeting everything is, but the reaper had never been the target of such feelings before.

"I saw you. I saw you in him," said Yesung with a glint of mischief in his eyes. The reaper knew what the goblin referred to, and it was the future that he saw in Changsub. It also meant that whatever he had gotten into with Changsub, Prophet Fate has willed for it to continue.

The reaper attempted very very badly to suppress his smile, but some of it couldn't help but leak onto his face.

Yesung grimaced.

"See? See? I knew you'd be like this. You said all that paperwork crap but truthfully this is one paperwork you're glad to have, isn't it?"

At last, Yesung stood back up from his seat on the boat. He approached the reaper line a snake, slow and taunting, before taking his place merely inches in front of him. Up close, Yesung's presence was even more daunting, making the reaper feel tiny and confined. It felt almost claustrophobic.

The goblin took another glance at the heap of body behind him before turning back to the reaper, the pity he had earlier in his eyes returning as he asked in a low voice: "Do you have any idea what you're doing to him?"

The reaper wanted to answer, but it was like duct tape had been pulled over his lips.

"Reapers, your kind's destiny is never a happy one. You know that. From the start, you should know that this," he pointed a thumb behind him, "is not going to work out. Or did you expect it to?"

Again, the reaper could only stand still. Yesung continued.

"You and I—we are the same. Sinful, cursed beings. We're not sent here to enjoy the view. We're here for a punishment. Punishments do not, they never, end up well. My question is," Yesung inched even closer to the reaper, almost making the reaper lose his footing, but he held on with all he had. "You, whose destiny is one of pain, what happens if you drag an innocent human into it? Then what ending will this human have?"

The reaper thought. If they were together, then they naturally would have the same ending.

If his ending was ill-fated, then...

"By mingling with his life," Yesung's voice rose, power dripping in his raspy voice, "you are robbing him of his happy ending."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Darkness, why are you_   
>  _erasing everything black?_   
>  _I can’t see anything,_   
>  _about the eternal future by myself,_   
>  _making me dream however I want._
> 
> _Super Junior - Evanesce_   
>  _[trans by pop!gasa]_
> 
> \-----
> 
> hello yesung! lol
> 
> this will be the only chapter he is a major character in, maybe even the only one he is in?? idk yet actually but to anyone concerned, he's not gonna take over the story or anything. his addition might seem really random but tbh when i thought i needed a goblin i just picked the gloomiest person on my bias list haha
> 
> i originally planned for this to be longer but i don't like keeping y'all waiting :( hence that slightly awkward cut. i just wanna get something out before i have to take a short break to focus on finals. this was also written amidst the frenzy of final assignments and studying so if there are errors i apologize TT
> 
> some of the supposed latter part of this chapter i have written will have to be merged with the next chapter. after finals i'll have much more time to write so yay! hopefully i can update faster! do wait patiently ^^
> 
> thank you for the warm response so far, like seriously, omg


	4. drunk

"You must be confused."

Changsub turns to the source of the sound: a smiling Yesung, clad in accessories.

Is he? He isn't really all that confused. Something just seems a little bit off, somewhere, somehow. For one, there's the sharp pain in his head. But he also feels heady. Lost. Like he's drunk, although he knows he is completely sober.

Then it happens: Changsub loses his balance and topples down. Yesung rushes over and holds him up before he hits the ground, his scrawny hands holding Changsub's weight up with little to no problem. Changsub would register the abnormality if his mind was in the right place, which it is not.

Yesung slowly walks him to the edge of the pier and helps him sit, himself also sitting next to Changsub and supporting him with an arm around his waist. "Do you remember what happened?" Yesung asks.

Changsub isn't sure what Yesung wants him to answer, and he isn't in the condition to think about it either. Is there a particular accident that he has in mind? What is happening? What happened? What?

"Um, what do you mean?" Changsub asks, incapable of answering with anything else.

"Just try to recount what we just did," Yesung commands with gentle rubs on Changsub's back. The game developer shrugs and just does what his client asks him to like a good businessman.

He opens his mouth first then thinks about what to say. "We went on that boat. And then—"

Changsub frowns. He knows he got on the boat with a certain "Yesung-ah". They introduced themselves. And then—

Changsub frowns, deeper. Something happened. Something. It's like he's almost grabbing that memory by the throat, but it keeps stepping away from him and he just can't seem to remember. It's like he's almost reached the finish line in Mario Kart but a row of bananas keep making him slip up and he just can't progress, spinning round and round on the spot.

"As I thought." Yesung lightly tugs Changsub's head towards him, analyzing the side of it and shaking his own. "You fell when we got out of the boat and hit your head. It must've been pretty awful for you to completely forget stuff like this."

Changsub's hand goes up to feel his head for himself and winces. It does hurt very bad now that the pain has his attention. From the burning sting, it seems like he is even bleeding—

His suspicions are confirmed once he sees his bloody hand. Changsub grimaces in horror. How bad had he fallen to cause a wound this bad? He isn't usually this clumsy.

Yesung looks at him and starts nodding repeatedly. There is a certain weight to it that Changsub isn't capable of deciphering with his current brain capacity. "Alright." Yesung finally says after some moments pass, taking off his visor with one hand. "First, I'll talk about the deal, then. Your idea is very interesting. May I propose that we go the extra mile? I think we should make your game exclusively using my company's repertoire. I'll give you access to all of it."

Changsub's mouth is left gaping open. He does a double check, repeating almost every word back to Yesung hoping he just heard right and it's not his fried brain sending him weird signals. Yesung chuckles and nods.

That's it? Did he just secure what's probably the best deal of his life? All while his brain is practically dead?

"Let's talk about this in greater detail." Yesung puts on a pair of fancy gradient sunglasses, resetting his accessory count after he lost the visor. Again, he pulls Changsub up with little to no effort, and this time a gradually sobering Changsub registers the abnormality but decides to not think about it too much. "Follow me to my car, I have first aid for your head. Let me give you a ride home as well."

* * *

 

The Reaper rolls over in his bed.

He has been doing this for probably an hour now, even though it's almost 2 in the morning and he has an early job tomorrow. Three empty white stained glasses sit on his bedside, evidence of his desperate attempt to go to sleep before he evidently gave up.

The thing is, he is not stupid. He knows with his whole body that he admits what the goblin said was right. He agrees with his whole sanity and mind that yes, this is certainly one paperwork he would be glad of having.

He also agrees, however hesitantly, that yes, this whole thing is guaranteed to not work out. He knows. He believes it. Divine punishment is that severe. The reaper has accepted since the first decade or so of his undead life that nothing good will ever come to his kind.

This fact, however, is not the thing keeping him up right now. It's a bit too late for that. On his mind is the back-and-forth war of two choices: to capitalize on the little enthrallment he has found in Lee Changsub, or to leave.

For one, the thing that is keeping him anchored to Lee Changsub is, aside from the never-ceasing sensation, the mystery behind him. How can someone make him feel like that simply by being around him? And why did he suddenly feel so painful right after leaving him? Not once in the centuries he spent sending off soul has this happened to him before, and the curious youth brain his body is stuck at is filled to the brim with thousands of burning questions. Questions which, if he leaves, he will not get the answers to. 

Leave. Even after weighing the options, there is no doubt that the most beneficial option for him is to stay. But the option of leaving keeps pulling his mind like a magnet, the force of it multiplied by each time the goblin's words repeats on inside his head like a broken record:

 _"By mingling with his life,"_ he still remembers the anger in Yesung's voice as he said that, _"you are robbing him of his happy ending."_

The reaper wanted so badly to argue with that; he wanted to say that he could just wipe Changsub's memories when he's done and then life will go as usual, but he knows better than to try to pull a wool over the eyes of fate. Interacting with Changsub alone could tint his fate black.

With that thought, the reaper just sits there in his bed. For one minute.

Another minute.

Suddenly the reaper thrashes, kicking his blanket off his King-sized bed.

"Why must this be so hard!" he screams to himself. The reaper scratches his head. Nothing in his undead life has ever been this hard. He feels like ripping his hair out. Maybe he should.

Deciding it would probably be better to not greet souls with half-ripped hair, he thinks of what else to do. He could maybe try to ask his friends' opinions... but that would run the risk of being judged because _yeah Kim Yook, you idiot, why the fuck did you interact with a human in the first place?_

He decides to consult the only friend that has been there for him non-stop all this time: alcohol. Precisely, the three bottles of soju he's taking out from his fridge, which he could only drink peacefully in the lonely comfort of his own home because all his "friends" prefer beer. Those fools are not friends to him. Soju is.

He swallows them, every last drop, the burn delicious and warm. His awesome friend just embraced him as he is greeted into their home. What do you do once you are welcomed into someone else's home? That's right, you chit-chat.

"I mean," he hiccups. "This past century has been crap, y'know? No hot reapers are coming in anymore. I'm thirsty. Thirsty!" He slams his bottle onto the desk, cracking it slightly. Grunting, he lifts it up without touching it and with a wave of his hand, flings it to the trash can—barely sliding into it. "Then he comes and he just makes me feel really great, oh god, I know god hates me but look at his cheeks. I wanna poke 'em. Don't I get to? I should. I totally should."

He drops his head onto the table, not even wincing from the impact. Minutes pass, hours pass... before a terrifying sound jolts him up. Frantically, he looks around for the source of the sound—it sounded like it came from the table—then sees, at the far end of the coffee table: his phone, vibrating. 

The vibrating has already ended when he slides over to pick it up. He unlocks it to see it's just some notifications from that drama subscription, notifying him about "This month's highlights!" or whatever. He is about to give this useless phone the same treatment he gave the bottle.

Then he remembers. What did he get this phone for? Yes, for Changsub. Specifically for Changsub.

More specifically, to contact him about the lure.

He contemplates. Okay. At the very least, whatever happens later, shouldn't he wrap up the lure situation first? Changsub already went fishing. Did that client whatever. He should be done with it. Leaving before he ties up this loose end would be impolite. Right? Right?

"Right," he answers his own question. "You're absolutely right. Let's contact Changsub about it."

Glancing at the morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, he decides it's the right time to contact him at this moment. He clumsily maneuvers through his phone, repeatedly tapping the wrong things until he reaches the message window with Changsub.

Only now, more than twenty-four hours later, does he notice the new text that Changsub sent him.

_then make me remember, daddy... im all yours tonight_

The reaper tilts his head.

His brows furrow in confusion. Did Changsub accidentally text a wrong number? How could Changsub be even more stupid than he thought he is? First he forgot his line when going fishing, now this.

 _Yeah. Yeah. This guy is stupid. I'm so gonna ditch him after the lure thing is over,_ the reaper thinks to himself, even laughing at the thought of it.

Cracking his knuckles, he prepares a reply.

_I am not your father, Lee Changsub._

How could Changsub mistake him for his father? Geez. One should not be so inattentive when contacting one's family. The reaper found it odd that Changsub would proclaim that he is his father's, though. Maybe that is the current way for sons to show their affection to their fathers, it's not like the centuries-old reaper is updated on human trends.

Not two minutes later, a reply comes in. Changsub is already awake as he thought.

_Wait, you know my name?_

_Okay, who are you? Seriously._

The reaper clicks his tongue before inputting in another reply, still thinking about how stupid the human is.

_I literally just told you my name today._

He gets a sudden panic thought that he erased the wrong part of Changsub's memory earlier today and made him forget his name instead of the fact that Yesung slammed his head into a boat. That would've been awful. And dangerous. Crap.

A slew of replies from Changsub comes not long after he sent the text, the vibrations and loud rings from his phone giving him a headache each time. The alcohol was starting to loosen its grasp on the reaper, replacing the buzz with constant pulsating of his head.

_Sungjae? Is this Sungjae?_

_Oh my god_

_God_

_Why didn't you tell me_

_This is embarrassing_

He breathes a sigh of relief. So Changsub still remembers. At least he did one thing right today.

But he's confused. It wouldn't be logical for him to introduce himself to Changsub first. After all, Changsub's name is already written here on top of his window when he tried to message him. Changsub should be able to see his name, too.

_Why didn't you know it was from me?_

His phone vibrates continuously again not long after, eliciting a painful groan from the reaper.

_I don't know, because you never told me?_

_Dammit_

_Shit_

_What do you want anyway_

The reaper scowls at the curse he received. He totally doesn't deserve that. Distantly, he recalls again that Changsub received a nasty hit to the head from Yesung today and briefly wonders if his mind is still not in the right place.

As an intellectual, he decides to ignore the malicious tone in Changsub's message and become the adult in the situation.

 _The lure,_ he simply replies.

_Okay. I'll sell it to you at original price if that's okay with you_

_What time are you free tomorrow?_

He scrambles to his bedroom to check the cards he got for the next couple of days. Shuffling through them, he discovers that has two more early jobs tomorrow. He's got nothing but early jobs lately and he wonders if God is already sending him bad karma for interacting with humans.

_Fine with original price. I have a job early in the morning, but otherwise I'm free all day._

This time Changsub takes some time to reply.

_Ok_

_I'll meet you at the fishing shop at 5pm with the lure_

The reaper has no idea why, but the thought of meeting Changsub again tomorrow subconsciously brings a smile to his face. Maybe it's just the prospect of getting the high feeling Changsub emits again, although the thought of it should bring him more guilt than joy at this point.

He continues grinning like an idiot until he remembers he is not yet completely sober, his head feels like death (he knows he's already dead), smells like shit, and also has a job in an hour.

* * *

Changsub buries his head in his pillow for the umpteenth time tonight. He's starting to actually believe the universe hates him at this point.

_Stupid Sungjae. Why didn't he just tell me it was him!? I sent him that—that—_

"Shit!" he starts cursing, followed by a string of curses chanted into his pillow like a mantra to turn back time. How many times has he embarrassed himself this week? How does this happen to him? How does this happen to _anyone_? What did he come in contact with that gave him this much bad luck?

What's worse is the snarky reply Sungjae gave him for the dumb trick he tried to pull. He could practically imagine Sungjae laughing at him for it and it makes him a thousand times more embarrassed. He tried to stir the conversation away from his message and thankfully Sungjae went along, but it still happened. It still happened and it's so so so _so_ embarrassing. Once again, he recites in his mind:  _Fuck grindr. Fuck phones. Fuck Alexander Graham Bell. Fuck_ everything.

His phone vibrates and it is a reply from Sungjae, saying that he would be free all day tomorrow except for a job early in the morning. The statement evokes a recurring thought in Changsub about Sungjae's job, considering that he makes enough to buy fancy fishing gear and a boat. Maybe he's actually a really famous model or something. His face sure could pass as one.

He thinks of Sungjae. An oddity that Changsub thinks he will never figure out, never doing what he expects him to from their very first meeting. Somehow intriguing, somehow enticing, but mostly annoying.

Changsub gives Sungjae a meeting time and place before setting his phone down to get ready for work. He doesn't know what compelled him to set the meeting in the evening, but it may have to do with the fact that he knows a good restaurant close to the fishing shop. What relevance does it have with Sungjae and his lure? Who knows?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ! IMPORTANT !  
>  I'd like to not do it at first due to the potentially spoilerish nature of it, but after considering recent events, I've decided to put a trigger warning for mentions of suicide in future chapters. Those who have watched the show will surely know why...  
> It won't be graphically described as I originally planned it, out of consideration, but it will be there. Just in case.
> 
> At last, I've finally updated! I really wanted to finish this before the year ends. Thankfully I barely managed to make it ^^" It's also longer than usual this time.  
> The next chapter will be their... meeting? Transaction? Date? Hmm.  
> As always, do find me on [twitter!](http://twitter.com/btosuju) I tweet about the fic too, occasionally.
> 
> Lastly, I wish you all a happy new year! A reminder that you have all worked hard and done well this year. And get well soon to our precious boys ❤


	5. beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Tears are falling like this_
> 
> _But why didn’t I know?_

Changsub arrives at the fishing shop fifteen minutes before promised. Not because he's trying to look good. That's just the time he gets there if he leaves right after work ended. He passes time testing some game updates his tech team just sent him for approval.

Sungjae arrives right on time—exactly on time—and immediately spots Changsub in front of the store. He is no longer dressed in a suit, but he has a casual look going on with just a T-shirt and khakis. A fancy black watch hugs his wrist. Compared to his own long-sleeved plaid shirt and dress pants, he feels a little overdressed.

Sungjae is consistently not a man of greetings. "So, lure?" he asks, the first thing to come out of his mouth. Changsub's outstretched hand, ignored, is withdrawn back into the safety of his pocket. He also couldn't stop the scowl forming on his face.

"I have it," he says, already regretting this. "Why don't we—"

He takes a moment to think.

_Am I really going to do this? Am I this desperate? Am I this shameless? Have I always been like this when it comes to men? Do I—_

Amidst his frivolous questions, Changsub notices the other's expression. Sungjae has been made waiting for a considerable while, but he doesn't look the least bit annoyed. Rather, he's looking at him funny. Like he's genuinely curious, or concerned. It's hard to tell.

Changsub clears his throat. "Let's go," he says instead, turning his back to Sungjae.

Sungjae obediently trots behind him as they walk, to Changsub's surprise. He expected questions. Changsub takes it as a positive sign... for what, he doesn't know, but it's a positive sign.

They reach the door of the restaurant—

"What? What? What is this?" finally Sungjae questions. Changsub actually thought things would go well for once. He should've known that the universe is against him.

"A Japanese restaurant," Changsub answers with his prepared answer, keeping his eyes on the wooden sliding door. Sungjae waits for Changsub to continue, but he doesn't.

"Okay? So? Why?"

"It's dinnertime."

"But I'm here to get my lure, not eat."

Something twists in Changsub's chest, making him wince visibly. That just now is a rejection, isn't it? Figures. He shouldn't have tried this at all. His luck with men has always been terrible. Sungjae's probably taken anyway, there's no way a guy who looks like that isn't.

"Look, will you just let me treat you dinner?" Changsub finally looks at Sungjae. He is again surprised. Sungjae looks a little bit more than confused, but not all that angry, or apologetic like one usually looks when rejecting a guy's invitation to a date.

Yeah, that's what this is. An invitation to a date. That's what Changsub decided it is after thinking about it the whole day. He thought he probably had a small chance, but alas. Changsub scrutinizes the look on Sungjae's face though, and somehow it gives him the final burst of courage to push through with this. "Take it as a thanks for the line," he says, mentally crossing his fingers.

Sungjae contemplates, but then his expression... brightens, slightly, then a lot, almost giggling. He really is unpredictable.

"Okay." Suddenly all smiles, he grins at Changsub. "Right. You owe me that too, don't you."

Changsub lets himself smile, even though he still thinks everything is odd. "I do, regrettably. Now come on."

* * *

Changsub changes his mind. He regrets this.

Sungjae actually had the asshole in him to order seafood, which is just not okay for a rising game developer.

Is Sungjae even worth all of this? Why did Changsub decide to ask a dick out on a date, again? Maybe he should've just given up when he was kindly rejected earlier. Now, Sungjae is obviously trying to make him regret ever asking the guy out.

Or has he dressed too nice? Has he given the impression that he makes a better living that he actually does?

They return the menu to the waitress once she is done confirming their order. Changsub is trying to remember how much money he has in his wallet, in his bank account, or thinking of a way to check without being too obvious.

Sungjae speaks. "You don't like seafood?"

 _I don't like expensive things_ , Changsub wants to reply. Rich men and their rich tastes. In dramas, the chaebol is usually the one treating the other, so why is it the other way round?

Ah. Changsub just kinda assumed Sungjae is a chaebol. It makes a lot more sense considering he looks so young but already owns a private fishing boat. Though it does bring back Changsub's curious thoughts about Sungjae's job, if he actually has one.

Changsub decides to just ask. "So Sungjae-sshi, what do you do?"

Sungjae sends him a flabbergasted look. Was that too personal? Well, it serves as a reminder for Changsub that this isn't a cozy date, this is just him forcing the other to have a dinner with him—

"I, um." Sungjae avoids his eyes. "I... escort people?"

_Escort—_

_Escort!?_

Changsub tries his best to keep his face straight. You shouldn't judge people. You shouldn't judge people, Lee Changsub! Where are your damn manners!

He thinks it over again and well, okay, _fine_ , that makes sense too. He has supermodel looks. That could've gotten him anywhere. He's probably way up there. The fishing boat could've been a gift... from... one of his clients... or something...

"It's a freelance job," Sungjae elaborates, which helps very little. Extremely little.

"I see," Changsub replies just for the sake of replying. He looks at anywhere but Sungjae's face but ends up noticing Sungjae's hands, which are... big, and big hands usually mean—

Under the table, Changsub pinches his own arm. He needs to get his mind out of the gutter, now. He thinks of something to say. Something else that isn't this, because his mind is going places and he's about ninety-percent sure he has a mad blush on his face right now and it has to go.

Thankfully, Sungjae asks a question back. "Yourself?"

"Oh, I develop games," Changsub says, happy the conversation is being steered away. "Mobile games."

Sungjae looks at him blankly. His brows furrow and his head tilts. Changsub thought he was already pretty clear, so he wonders what the confusion is for. "Games for smartphones. Y'know? Don't use your phone much, do you?" He remembers their first meeting when Sungjae had left his phone.

The other shrugs. "More like... I don't have much use for it?"

"Oh?" _That's peculiar,_ Changsub continues in his head. A millennial not using a phone? In this economy? Entertainment and social use aside, Changsub can't imagine working efficiently without it.

Then again, it isn't probably needed too much by an escort—

"So, um, fishing is a pretty cool hobby," Changsub quickly changes the topic again before heat returns to his face. "Not something most youths have interest in."

"Youth, huh?" Sungjae chuckles. "I guess I am a youth."

"You're...?"

_He's not secretly 35 or something, is he?_

Sungjae seems to know what Changsub has in his head, although hopefully not to the minute detail. He doesn't give an immediate answer though, instead asking "You first?"

"I'm 26."

"Okay, then I'm also 26." Sungjae smiles, so innocently, like he didn't just completely mess with Changsub's brain once again with his response.

Meanwhile, Changsub doesn't even attempt to hide his confusion. Is this guy messing with him? Or is he secretly an agent for the government or something? That's probably it. That's why Sungjae refuses to tell his name and age. Is Yook Sungjae even his real name? Probably not.

 _Yeah right,_ Changsub thinks. There's obviously something hidden behind that statement, but Changsub decides to not prod further. It's only their first date ( _forced dinner_ , Changsub mentally corrects himself). Best to just not start things and just let the night flow. Besides, the waitress is here with their food, and it serves as the perfect excuse for Changsub to just ignore Sungjae's statement.

"I like fish," Sungjae continues once the waitress has left, answering Changsub's earlier question. "Or rather, they like me. They just always pool around me for some reason."

"Maybe fishes like your smell."

"Are you saying I stink?"

Changsub shrugs, stirring his ramen with his chopsticks. "Or maybe you're like, a fish in your previous life or something."

Sungjae actually laughs this time. "My previous life? Maybe. That's a possibility."

He has that look again, the mysterious look he had earlier. But Sungjae looks more comfortable now that they're talking about things he likes. So again, Changsub lets the shadow behind Sungjae's statement slide, even though he's getting more tempted to challenge it. "But that's interesting though, that fish just naturally gather around you."

"Isn't it? I even thought that maybe I emit ultrasound waves that draw them to me."

"That's not interesting, that's just weird."

"Ei." They both laugh. It settles to a comfortable silence. Changsub thinks he's starting to like the atmosphere. He turns his attention to eating while thinking of other things to ask Sungjae.

But Sungjae breaks the silence first.

"Watching fishes swim is nice," he says. "Against the currents, along the currents. It's not easy to swim against the currents, but it's boring if you just go with it."

The statement makes Changsub look up from his bowl. It sounds so... offbeat. It sounds normal, considering everything that Sungjae has said so far, but also strange.

Once his eyes meet the other's figure across him, he draws in a breath. Sungjae's body is leaned back against the seat in a relaxed manner and his neck is turned, his head facing the window. The yellow lights outside cast highlight and shadow onto his face, accentuating his cheekbones, the sharpness of his nose, and his plump lips.

For a moment, Sungjae looks, as much as Changsub hates to use the word to describe it, beautiful. Not news to Changsub, as he himself has admitted how attractive the young man is. Yet something else amplifies Sungjae's beauty in this moment—Changsub finds it in Sungjae's eyes. His eyes see the bright lights of Seoul outside, but Changsub knows it's not what he's actually thinking of. His gaze is distant. And coloring it is the piercing sense of... loneliness. Or sadness. Or... what is it? Not quite nameable. He has a somber expression on him, for sure.

Every moment is fleeting though, as they say, and this moment also disappears the moment Sungjae shakes his head and finally pays attention to his expensive seafood. But Changsub holds on to that moment. It is the first moment in which he gets a glimpse of what Sungjae is actually like, his mysterious identity aside. He finally has something _personal_ of Sungjae's to hold onto.

It ignites a flame of curiosity inside Changsub, really. What's with that expression? What is he thinking of? What is his life story?

Who actually is Yook Sungjae?

Changsub decides though, for now, to put a break on his wandering thoughts. Sungjae is already a confusing enough entity, but he gets even more confusing the more layers he peels. Best to keep the questions for the next time they meet. _If there ever will be a next time,_ Changsub's pessimist mind quickly interrupts, but he is determined to try and make a "next time" happen. He's already too curious to just leave this at first date.

To keep up the light atmosphere and just continue the conversation while Changsub gets his mind back on track, Changsub responds to Sungjae's jarringly profound statement by stating the obvious. "That's a jarringly profound statement coming from you."

Sungjae splits his chopsticks. "What makes you think I don't make profound statements?"

The guy has a point. Perhaps it's the earlier thoughts of him being a simple chaebol or possibly a gigolo that has influenced his mind to be this subjective. Was that thing about being an escort even real? Changsub doesn't know one single shit about Yook Sungjae.

"You're right. It's only our first date, what do I know about you?"

Changsub realizes what he said.

_Oh—oh shit. Fuck. What did I just say? I just said that. Why? How am I this stupid? I should've known better than to speak when my brain's not collected yet—_

In a panic, Changsub just continues talking. Probably wrong rule of thumb on a date #1: when in doubt, talk.

He avoids looking at Sungjae when he talks, suddenly finding the agedama floating on the soup of his ramen extremely interesting. "You yourself relate to that profound statement you said earlier?" he asks with the straightest face possible, even while knowing his body probably does little to hide his embarrassment.

"Doesn't everyone?" Sungjae replies without missing a beat. Like a normal conversation. _Like he doesn't refute that this is a date,_ Changsub's delusional-teenager-self says, which he quickly shoots down.

"Yeah, I guess," Changsub says back, basically blabbering at this point. "Fight against the currents! Follow your heart! That cliche motivational stuff. Cliche, but not necessarily bad. I mean. Yeah."

"Not necessarily bad, you say?" Sungjae says as he munches on his expensive crispy prawn tempura. It's a scene Changsub hears instead of sees, with his eyes still fixated on his own fingers. "Huh."

 _Okay, so maybe Sungjae didn't notice? He hasn't shown any reaction to the date thing yet. Maybe he didn't notice._ He takes a peek at Sungjae's face. The guy just looks thoughtful. Not disgusted or shocked or anything. He doesn't look like he's about to get the fuck out of here right at this moment. _Okay._

_Thank you God for giving me this miracle._

Changsub clears his throat, warning himself again and again to think twice before opening his mouth, then actually opens his mouth. "Isn't it more like good advice, though? All motivational speakers say that. Like a broken record."

Sungjae sighs, and it sounds so heavy for some reason. The topic isn't all that serious, but his reaction sounds like it's been on his mind forever. It successfully shifts Changsub's mind back to the place it was before his stupidity earlier: thinking that he doesn't know anything about Yook Sungjae.

"I... don't know," the mystery-shrouded man admits. "Sometimes I think it's better to just go along. The world is created this way for a reason. Shouldn't disrupt the natural order."

 _Natural order? Isn't that taking it a little too far?_ Changsub thinks. He was thinking of stuff on a much smaller scale, like the correct direction to sweep your floor, or deciding whether to floss or brush your teeth first. Or perhaps, something slightly bigger like the decision to not use social media in this age, or maybe even ignoring society standards by choosing to work as an escort. Not like... trying to clone humans or abandoning earth and move to Mars or something. Even so, Sungjae doesn't look like he was joking. Whatever Sungjae is thinking about, he meant it. It's perplexing.

"Well." Changsub sets down his chopsticks. "I don't know about you, Mr. Yook Sungjae, but I quite dislike being told what to do."

"Oooh." Sungjae smirks and arches a brow. "A little rebel we have here. So you believe going against the currents is wise?"

"Eh. Don't know about wise, but it's fun," Changsub says as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Life doesn't last forever. A waste to spend it being wise all the time."

His philosophy in life is exactly that. Changsub has always done whatever he wants to do. So far, this philosophy has earned him a barely profitable game company and one too expensive dinner he still doesn't know what to pay with, but Changsub thinks he loves his way of life. There aren't a lot of things he badly regrets. Even this dinner is turning into something he doesn't regret too much.

"Is that it?"

Changsub has been half-joking all through the conversation, but the grave tone with which Sungjae just said his question makes him realize how serious this is. When he checks the other's expression, Sungjae is looking at him with a piercing half-lidded gaze. It's... the look from that earlier moment again. That somber expression.

Feeling really guilty for some reason while at the same time aware that his heart is racing, Changsub could only respond with a weak "Yeah." He probably said something wrong again to make Sungjae look like that. He tries to comfort himself by thinking _whatever, this is probably the last time we're gonna see each other anyway, what do his feelings matter to me_ but then he is reminded that he probably won't see Sungjae anymore and it stings more than a little.

They finish eating. Changsub pays, relieved that he has enough in his bank account this late into the month. Right after they step out of the door, Sungjae immediately outstretches an open hand to Changsub.

With a deep sigh, Changsub gives him the lure he has been keeping securely inside his pocket, receiving payment in cash in return. _There it goes._ He's going to bid the other goodbye forever. This is, most likely, the last time they'll ever meet voluntarily like this—

"So," Sungjae suddenly gives two quick pats to Changsub's shoulder. "It's only our first date, isn't it? See you in the next."

Before Changsub could say anything, Sungjae walks away—onto the sidewalk, and away.

Once his mind catches up— _holy shit what is happening_ —Changsub tries to follow Sungjae onto the sidewalk and demand an explanation only to see him nowhere in sight.

* * *

The reaper knows this is stupid.

He... put some effort into avoiding Changsub. Really. He tried to just get the lure and leave. It's not like Changsub had a reason to try to get close to him anyway.

But then they go to that restaurant, and the reaper knew he shouldn't do it, but when Changsub brought up that he had something else to owe him his mind just agreed without much thinking. He initially thought it's probably just so they do not leave any loose ends. Better to settle it today than to have something else to link them later, something else to use as a reason to keep Changsub's number in his phone.

Truth be told, the reaper was already aware this wasn’t a simple dinner ever since Changsub started talking. Like he was trying so hard to not do anything out of line. To be polite. To keep the atmosphere up. And when Changsub finally said it was a date, the reaper didn't feel shocked, only the knowing feeling that his hunch was proven true.

Meanwhile, the reaper himself was already careless throughout the conversation. He thought he should always keep his guard up and not make it too personal, but he ended up being all sentimental anyway. There was this weird urge to open up, a foreign sense of trust towards a man he literally just met days ago. His company seemed to unlock something in him. Like the other man was supposed to know all his secrets. It was comforting. But he also knew it was dangerous. Changsub is the nectar of a single black rose growing in the desert he has walked for centuries.

And he—Changsub, he—was admittedly... for the lack of a more fitting word, cute.

His cheeks. The crinkling around his eyes when he smiles. How panic shook his pupils. His dynamic movements whenever he says anything. The pleased look on his face when delicious food made contact with his tongue.

The reaper was almost baffled by the high he felt when he was seeing all these. It was like he was meant to see that sight. Centuries have passed since he was cursed into this body, but this was the sight his eyes were molded to see. And his husky voice was the sound his ears were molded to hear. For the first time in his undead life, something finally _fits_.

_Fight against the currents! Follow your heart!_

_Life doesn't last forever. A waste to spend it being wise all the time._

He scoffs. Changsub spoke as if he knew what living forever feels like. But that youthful spirit is nice too, he thought, and it set off a spark of rebellion in the reaper's head. _When you actually have forever, isn't it even more of a waste to spend it being wise all the time? Don’t you want to just do whatever you feel like doing? Ignore the rules? Ignore your curse?_

The thought spread through his brain like wildfire and before he knew it, he was already asking Changsub for a second date.

"What am I doing?" The reaper asks loudly to himself in the emptiness of his apartment. He rolls over on his couch into a position where he comes face to face with his right hand.

He remembers the pats he gave Changsub with this very hand. It was risky. It was against clothing, yes, but still very risky. Because he did it anyway when he knew that entertaining one of his indulgent thoughts will just leave him wanting more.

And he does—boy, does he. He wants to freely talk with Changsub, able to hug and shake hands like in those dramas, even though he knew he cannot touch him. He shouldn't. He even took great care to take the lure and give the money without making physical contact at all, but he couldn't resist in the end. Touching Changsub will reveal too much about him and that's just one more thing to worry about, another root he wouldn’t be able to pull out when the time to let go inevitably comes.

He had run away before his uncontrollable brain pushed him to do anything even more stupid. He ran as fast as he could. All the while his heart ached, and only once he arrived here again through a cloud of black smoke did he start crying for no apparent reason. Granted, he wasn’t as broken as he was the first time this happened, but it still _happened_. For a second time. Caused by the same person, most likely.

The reaper presses a tissue paper to his damp eyes one last time before getting up to walk to his bedroom, trying to leave his thoughts behind on that couch. Every step is heavy. It’s like even gravity is telling him that he has a place else to be and it is not here.

 _What is this feeling?_ He thinks. He also thinks: _I don't want to leave him._

What the reaper doesn’t recognize is that it is the feeling of longing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I’m drawing out the familiar times with my hands_   
>  _Crying in the same place like a broken clock_   
>  _The dazzling you, the angelic you_   
>  _The beautiful you, I wanna hold you_   
>  _I wanna see you again_
> 
> _Wanna One - Beautiful_  
>  _(trans: pop!gasa)_
> 
> \---
> 
> Sorry it took so long ;-; I had an awful block on this fic and... yeah... but it's done finally dkfjhs. I'm super sorry to keep you all waiting. Hope this is worth the wait!
> 
> Also I gotta tell you guys that I'll be taking like a week/two weeks off writing fics due to academic reasons. I'll be back shortly! Do wait for me. I already can't wait to go back to writing.


End file.
